Gotham Knights 2
by Hailey Burns
Summary: Now that the Joker's gone, Alex Gordon has moved up in the GPD and has a love interest: Bruce Wayne. Nothing stays perfect in Gotham for long though, and Alex has to deal with her past and other criminals. Alex/Bruce or Alex/?
1. Chapter 1

**Well, here it is!! The sequel. It has come, but the best title I have is **_**Gotham Knights 2**_**. So I beg you (on my hands and knees) to please give titles for this story. **_**Gotham Knights 2**_** is frankly quite lame, but it'll work if it has to. Anyway, onto the reviews from the last chapter of **_**Gotham Knights.**_

**Hannah—Don't worry about the title. I'm sure I'll come up with something, but please help! Here's the sequel. I hope that it lives up what I did with the first one.**

**Bunny94—I'm glad that you loved it! Yup. Sequel.**

**Johanna—Well, I suppose it is, and it's always nice to get reviews! =P I know what you mean about not always trying. I do that at school occasionally. Please give me something for titles.**

**Blpaul—Hey don't worry about it. I'm glad that I did the ending well. I really enjoyed it, and I even cried. Thank you. Well, you got any ideas for the title?**

**Peyton16—I always enjoy first time reviewers, and you are always welcome to review. Well, I'm glad that you reviewed =). I'm glad that you approve of it. I learned from my English teacher about explaining things well so that your readers always know what's going on. I'm glad that Alex added a new thing to the movies. Sorry, it made you mad, but how could've I just left it like that? About Alex and Bruce: they will get together, but what happens after that, I can't say. ;)**

**Mell—Thank you!!!! That is one of my favorite compliments, because there are ton of stories here. Here's the sequel. =)**

_**DISCLAIMER: Everything that you recognize from the movies or comics do NOT belong to me!!! They belong to WB, DC comics, and Chris Nolan. Do not sue me. It is just my imagination that was sparked by them. Everyone else (i.e. Alex, Wilson, Harry) belongs to me, and if I had enough money, I would copyright them. **_

**Okay, the beginning of the next one. That was lame, but I can't say the beginning of the end, because I don't know if it will be the end. Also, remember that what happens here on out, is completely what I think is going to happen in the next one or result of TDK. It is just my opinion, but I am open to suggestion if someone has something else to add. So enjoy.**

A few weeks after the Joker was caught and put into Arkham's solitary confinement, everything was getting back to normal. I was still trying to decide if that was a good thing or not. I was however right about one thing: crime had nearly stopped for the first week after the Joker was off the streets. Everyone was picking up the pieces, including us. We had to move the squad room to a temporary spot on the top floor, take the stairs, and deal with the constant banging around below us as MCU was quickly rebuilt. I wasn't surprised when Dad told me that the population had dropped since the Joker attacked the ferry; even some of the cops had resigned or asked to be transferred to safer cities. Ramirez was one of them. Her mother had declined rapidly because of the stress and died. Ramirez quickly resigned and vanished from Gotham. Not all of it was bad though. With dad as the commissioner, he was in charge of promotions. He went relatively crazy with them. It was a day that I would never be able to forget.

_I woke up about ten minutes before my alarm went off on a typical Wednesday morning, but unfortunately, it wasn't one of my many nightmares that woke me up. It was the frustrating pain in my shoulder. I groaned and massaged it as I sat up and shut the alarm off. I sighed as I slammed my head back on the pillow. It was so annoying! I hated the fact that my left arm was almost completely useless and in pain. I pulled the bottle of Vicodin from the bedside table and popped one pill in my mouth and swallowed it down. I rolled out of my bed when my phone rang. I grabbed it out of the kitchen and answered._

"_Gordon," I moaned in a very sleepy voice._

"_Mornin', Sunshine," Dad said. _

_I sighed. "There are times when I really should say, 'Bite me.'"_

_I heard him chuckle. "Very funny, Al." That wasn't the cheeriest tone that I've every heard from him._

_I sat down. "Sorry. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed."_

"_Eh, whatever," he groaned. "Be at my office in an hour in your uniform."_

_I had no idea what that meant. "Why?"_

"_See ya then." There was a click as he hung up._

_I rolled my eyes as I put the phone back on the table and began to get ready. For the next forty-five minutes I got ready; shower, dressed, change of clothes, and breakfast. I threw my messenger bag, with the change of clothes, around my shoulders and headed downstairs. I unlocked the door of the black sedan that I was using from MCU since it was a little difficult to drive a speed bike with a bad shoulder. I tossed the messenger bag on the passenger seat and was at City Hall in ten minutes. I walked into the building and took the elevator to the third floor to Dad's office. I knocked on the door. _

_He looked up from his paperwork. He nodded for me to come in._

_I raised my eyebrows in question, but obliged. "Dad, you gonna tell me what this is about?"_

_He stood up and walked around his desk with a box in his hand. It wasn't just like an ordinary cardboard box, but more like a large jewelry box. "You should probably stand at attention, Alex." I stood straight with my hands at my side as he pulled off my badge and patch that showed my rank. The fact that he was able to just snip it off with scissors told me that it hadn't been sewn on really well. I smirked to myself as he yanked off the shoulder straps from their Velcro binds. He pulled the box off his desk and opened it. Inside there was a badge holder with six citation bars and two new shoulder straps with three gold stars on each to signify my new position. He smiled broadly as attached my badge to its new holder, probably knowing that it would be taken off soon enough. He pinned it back onto my shirt and looked me in the eyes. "There are six of them, but I'm assuming you figured that out," he chuckled. "The medal of honor," he said pointing to the blue starred one. "For all of your outstanding acts that could've cost you your life." He pointed to the next one, "The combat cross for taking down Dent." He sighed as he announced the next one, "Wounded in combat from Dent and the Joker. Life saving, for saving Jimmy and Reese without thinking twice." He looked me in the eyes, and I could clearly see the pride resonating in his eyes. "Grand cordon for leading the Gotham Police in the Joker's arrest. That took guts, Al. And last, but probably not least, grade promotion for standing up to Captain, now Colonel, Harry Greene." He pinned it to my chest._

_I smiled, but this was one of the few times in my life I couldn't think of anything to say. _

_He pulled out the shoulder straps. "Al, I never thought that I would make it to Commissioner, ever, and I never thought that you would wind up a cop. But here we are, and now that I'm leading GPD, I want you to be by my side, helping me, guiding me." He secured the straps in their rightful place. "I can't think of anyone besides you that I would want to be the Deputy Commissioner, so, Alex, you are now Deputy Commissioner Alexandra Gordon." He smiled broadly._

_I smiled and fingered the stars on my shoulders._

I could've gone on remembering that for hours if my phone hadn't rang. I sighed, feeling a little disappointed that my memory was cut short, but I needed to be brought back to reality as fast as possible. I picked up the phone. "Gordon."

"Al," Dad replied sounding a little bit sad, "can you come over to my office for a little bit?"

I looked at the stack of paperwork that I should still work on before I headed out for the day. I crinkled my nose at the thought of doing more paperwork; I hated the stuff. "Yeah, sure. I'll be there in ten." I hung up the phone. I grabbed my jacket and slid into it, wincing at the slight pain in my shoulder as I moved it too quickly. I pulled my hair at the base of my neck and put the hair tie around it as I walked out of my office. I shut the door of my small office and walked into the squad room, which pretty much consisted of detectives, and those that had been promoted but chose to stay investigating, doing paperwork. It had been a slow day, which was probably a good thing.

One pair of eyes followed my as I strode towards the elevator. "Hey, Chief!" Wilson called.

I sighed and turned around. He called me "Chief" because it was easier to say than "Deputy Commissioner." He had a point, but it did get annoying. "Yeah, Wilson."

He got out of his chair and walked over to me. "Where're you going?"

"Does it matter?" I asked with a smirk on my face.

He put his hand over my head as I leaned against the wall. "Depends on what you're doing." It was his time to smirk.

I spun out from underneath him as I walked into the stairwell. "I'm heading over to City Hall."

He rolled his eyes. "That's no fun," he complained as he walked back to his desk.

I shook my head as I made my way down the stairs and out to the car. It was a relatively boring ten minutes of attempting to make my through the traffic. I sat in almost dead stops for more than half the trip, and it made me wonder I drove instead of walking there. Finally, I was able to make it to City Hall and parked. Parking in this place was almost as bad as the driving. I walked in the building and checked in my weapon. Apparently, everyone in the upper government here was still a little shaky from the Joker getting so deep in the Police Department. I knew that this new security precaution was, while annoying, quite necessary. I walked in the elevator and made my way up to the fifth floor and to Dad's office. The door dinged and I walked towards his office, amazed again at how clean and tidy this place was. I didn't even bother knocking on the door as I entered his new, clean, and big office with a beautiful view of the city.

Dad was just standing, with his hands on his hips, by the window, looking out. He looked awkwardly out of place. He wasn't an office cop; never had been. He was street cop or an investigator, but paperwork was certainly his forte. I knew that he heard me come in, but he was lost in thought. He kept his thoughts in his head a lot more than I did, but I guess that I got that from Mom. "You know, Alex, Gotham is on a turn for the better."

I shook my head and walked over to his side. "That's just 'cause you're stuck in this office all day," I pointed out. "Everything looks perfect from up here."

He turned and faced me. "That's probably why everyone is so surprised when the Joker began to take over the city," he sighed.

"Yeah. 'Cause they're trapped in glass boxes all day," I complained.

I got a half smile from Dad. "Life isn't easy down there." He sounded very reminiscent.

I looked at him in the eyes. "Dad, you're not acting like yourself. What's up?"

He moved over to his desk and sat on the edge. "Remember when I faked my own death?"

I glared at him. Of course I remembered. How could I forget? "Yeah, I remember," I replied after a minute of mulling over the right words to choose. I continued to glare at him, trying to figure out what he getting at.

He looked up at me and cringed just a little bit. Obviously, he figured out that I would never be able to forget. "Right. Sorry," he said quickly. "Anyway, Barbara is beginning to think that being married to a cop isn't worth the trouble, especially after what happened with Dent." He sighed. "I keep trying to tell her that it won't happen again, but she wants me to prove it."

I leaned my head over onto my shoulder. "She has a point." He glared at me. "You do too. Chances are slim that someone will target your family again, but slim doesn't mean none. In a town like this, it very well could happen again."

"I know," he acknowledged. "We've been arguing a lot lately. I don't know how long our marriage is going to last."

I looked at him wide-eyed. "Dad! How can you say something like that? I thought you two were deeply in love."

Dad shook his head slowly. "I'm still in love with your mother, and no matter who I'm with, though I try, I can't fill the hole that Jenny left. Barbara was the closest I got, so we made it work. She's tired of being a cop's wife, especially when she knows that I don't love her like I should. The only thing keeping us together are the kids, and they're even part of our downfall. I should love her more than I love Jimmy, but I don't, and she knows that because of Dent." He fell silent for a while.

I put my hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," was all I could say. I didn't fully understand what he was going through. I honestly didn't understand love, seeing as I had never been in love, but hopefully, I would be. Ironically, the person that made my phone ring at that point in time was the one I wanted to be in love with. "Dad, I gotta take this. Do you wanna go out for dinner with me tonight?"

He looked at me with determined eyes. "Nah. I should go home to Barbara and the kids, and try to make this work."

I shrugged. "Okay." I answered my phone. "Hey, Bruce."

"That's different," he replied.

I smiled as I walked out of Dad's office. "Why are you calling?"

"It's been almost a month. I was beginning to think that you had forgotten about me," he whined.

I laughed as I rode down in the elevator. "You're kinda hard to forget, Bruce," I shot back playfully. "I've been busy at work though. Ya know? Getting things back on track."

"Of course. Work always comes first," he said with a little bit of an attitude.

I narrowed my eyes even though he couldn't see me. "You're on thin ice, Bruce. Tread lightly."

"Sorry," he said immediately. He sounded genuinely sorry.

"Okay. Don't worry about it. So why did you call?" I asked as I slid in my car.

"We still haven't had a date," he pointed out.

I thought about it for a second. "I can't do anything really fancy, but I can take tonight off and we could go out for drinks."

There was a pause. "Not my normal date, but I'm beginning to figure out that you're not a normal girl. Sounds great. Where and when?"

"I take that offensively, Bruce," I joked. "O'Malley's on 7th at 6:30."

"All right. Bye, Alex."

"Bye." There was the typical click as he hung up. I squealed like a little girl as I turned the car on. Gotham really was a strange place, but I liked it.

**So it's not the longest chapter, but it's okay. I need to work on Bruce's personality a little more, and I have some twisty little things that will happen… eventually. Well, I don't have much more to say. Clicky the rectangular button below and review! (titles are greatly appreciated =)**


	2. Chapter 2

**ILuvOdie—Haven't heard from you in a while. Good to hear from you again. I'm glad that the girlish squeal was perfect. I figured that it was a proper response. Continue reading and reviewing.**

**Johanna—Yeah, you gotta point about having a date with Bruce. It would be amazing!!! ;) Please give titles and know that I'm also racking my brain for ideas. You know, I kinda noticed that they were similar because I thought that it was the same word, but I wasn't paying attention to it. So yeah. That's pretty cool. Good eye!**

**Bunny94—I'm glad that it's good so far! That's always encouraging. =) Yeah, titles are my weak point too… Hence why I'm asking everyone that reads it. Here's the update.**

**Dead-Poetic-Slumber—Nice name! I'm glad that you are pleased with the sequel. Don't worry about not being good at titles… I'm no good at them either, unfortunately, but maybe my imagination will spark. Thanks for the encouragement.**

**Hannah—Glad that you loved it! I hope that the sequel is just as good the first one. Their relationship will develop, but maybe more than either wanted… Figure that one out ;)**

**Sabre—Sorry it took so long to get up, but I had to start developing a plot line. I don't need chapter titles but a title in general… UGH!!! Oh well. I hope that something turns up. **

**Undermyumbrella—You are totally welcome for making a sequel. I couldn't just end the story there. **

Six thirty came a lot earlier than I expected, but when I checked my watch, I realized that it was actually 6:33. I growled and pulled my coat off the hook by the door and pulled it on as I dashed towards the stairs. I saw Wilson get up from his desk, but I held up my hand so that he would leave me alone as I took the steps about two at a time as I made my way out into the cold wind. I pulled the zipper up to my chin as the wind whipped past me, probably cursing, if it could, that I had gotten in its way. I pulled my hair back tighter and slid the sleeves over my hands as I quickly strode down the sidewalk a few blocks to make it to O'Malley's. I ran into some business guy and knocked his papers out of his hand. On a day that I wasn't in such a hurry, I would've stopped and helped him pick it up, but since I was in a hurry, I apologized and kept going. I looked at my watch: 6:37. I sighed as I neared the pub. Finally, I reached the door of the pub; I stood in front of the door and took a few deep breaths before pushing my way in.

"'Ey, Lass," the bartender called as he saw walk in.

"Hey, Shane," I replied as I walked up to the bar. I scanned the place for Bruce as I unzipped my jacket, but I didn't see him. Once again, he was later than me. I sighed and took a stool, folding my arms on the bar. I looked at my watch: 6:43. Where was he?

A beer suddenly appeared in front of me. "Ya look diff'ren' this ev'nin', Lassie," Shane said as he stood in front of me. "A li'l nervous, I'd say."

I took a sip of the beer. "You know it's none of your business," I scolded.

"Aye, but I know you'll tell me anyway," he smirked.

I sighed, knowing that he was absolutely right. Before I had the chance to tell him anything about my plans for that evening, two smooth hands blocked my vision, turning the room black. My instincts kicked in, and I reached for my gun. I felt warm breath tickle my ear and a cheek pressed up against the side of my head.

"Let go of your gun," the suspect growled into my ear.

I would recognize that voice anywhere. It was Bruce! I let the gun go, but my eyes were still covered. Why wasn't he letting go? One of his hands pulled away from my eyes, but the other quickly covered them back up. I heard the sliding of a bottle off the bar. My breathing quickened as my mind flashbacked to being in the Joker's trunk. I reached for my gun again, but this time in a slight panic.

"Get up and start walking," he growled. He planted a kiss on my neck. "Relax. You're fine."

I sighed and took my hand off my gun and slid off the stool and began walking. Bruce's hand on my waist guided me towards the back of the bar, to where I knew the booths were. I took deep breaths, not particularly liking this, but trusting him anyway. "Bruce," I whispered, placing my hand back on my gun.

"Shhh," he whispered. His breath tickled my ear. "Turn."

I hit a step with my foot. "Ow," I said as I stepped up and slid into the booth, finally regaining my sight as Bruce removed his hand and slid into the seat across from me. "Hell of an idea for a first date," I hissed.

He smiled. "Sorry."

I let go of my gun and held my shaking hand in my lap, between my legs. "I hate you for that I want you to know."

He pushed my beer across to me and held my other hand. "I'm sorry." A small, genuine smile crossed his face. "I didn't mean to scare you."

I was taken aback. He wasn't supposed to know that! He didn't even know that I was taken, unless he watched the news. "I wasn't scared. I… uhh… It's not a smart idea to do that to a cop."

He ran his hand through his hair, leaving my hand wanting to feel his warmth again. "Don't bother lying. I've watched you long enough to tell when you are."

"Creepy, but kinda sweet," I said, blush rising in my cheeks. I took a swallow of my beer, suddenly realizing I didn't really have any idea what to talk about.

He obviously did. "I know that you were scared, and I know why." Good. Leave it open so that I would tell him even if he didn't know.

Unfortunately, habits have a way of being a slight tell, or at least in my case, because the hand that was between my legs went straight to the scar on my face. I felt the bumpy, unevenness of the skin that marked where the Joker had sliced into my face. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied again.

He laughed. "What did I tell you about lying."

"I don't wanna talk about it," I whispered, taking another swallow of the cold beer.

He grabbed my hand and held it in his. "It's okay. I get it."

I smiled, nodding slowly. Unfortunately, I didn't know that much about dating, but I did know that couples (if you could call us that) asked each other how their days were. "So how was today for the man who leads three different lives?" I smirked.

He shrugged. "Eh, you know, business meetings, sleeping, and the nocturnal one is taking a break for a little while." He winked at me. "What about you?"

"Mostly paperwork, and I'm sorry about having to hunt you down as a fugitive."

He shook his head. "Don't be. This town needs as much hope as it can get, and it needed a hero with a face. That was Dent, not me."

I rolled my eyes. "You've done more for this city than Dent could dream of doing. He screwed up MCU pretty badly too. I can never forgive him for that. Let alone kidnapping my step-family." I clenched my fists.

He nodded in understanding. "I understand, but what would happen to this city if there was no hope. There would be no turning back from crime, and the ultimate battle would be lost."

I studied him, trying to solve the puzzle that was Bruce Wayne. He was unreadable, and closed up, probably from the losses that he's had in his life. "Is that why you do it?"

"Do what?" It was like he gotten completely lost in his head.

"Batman."

"It started out as ultimately trying to save Gotham before Al Ghul got here, but when I saw how bad it was, I didn't want to do it. There were, and are, still good people here, and they deserve the best from this city, and I want to make that happen." He paused. "I don't know… It's become more of a part of keeping me sane than I thought it would." He looked in my eyes. "Why do you do it?"

"It's a long and complicated story."

"We have time," he pointed out.

My phone rang. "Looks like it'll have to wait for another time." I pulled my phone out of its case. "Gordon."

"Hey, Chief." It was Wilson.

"Don't call me that," I pleaded. "What's up?"

"Got a middle-aged white guy murdered up here at the penthouse suit of Langori Apartments on Park."

"Rich guy, huh?" I glanced at Bruce.

"Yup," Wilson agreed. "You comin'?"

I tilted my head back and forth for a second. "Yeah. I gotta go back to MCU to get a ride, but I should be there in about half an hour."

"Hurry up." _Click._

I hung up and slid the phone back in its case. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." I took the last swallow of beer and put it on the table. I slid out of the booth with Bruce not far behind me.

He put his hands on my hips and pulled me close to him so that I would have no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck. "I get it," he smiled. "Duty calls."

I nodded sadly. "As always, Gotham's crime interrupts my life," I joked, getting a quiet laugh from Bruce. "No bats dropping in, okay?"

One of the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. "Okay," he mouthed. He locked onto my eyes again with his and just smiled. The whole bar seemed to melt away, except for us. He leaned his head down to me, and I brought mine up to meet his. Our lips met for a short second before he pulled back. "Be safe."

I ran my tongue over my lips. "I will. You be safe too, all right?"

He nodded and kissed me again. "Now, go get 'em, Al."

I shook my head and laughed. "You are certainly odd."

He smiled. "So?"

I cupped his cheek, grabbed the beer bottle and headed out. I put the bottle on the bar as I zipped up my jacket again.

"Night, Lass. Don't cause too much trouble, aight?"

I pushed open the door and walked up the street again. My mind was still on Cloud Nine from kissing Bruce. He really was an amazing kisser, and he had some depth to him. I still had my doubts about this relationship because of the public side of him. I didn't want to be played by him, but the way that he treated me like I was special made me doubt my doubts. The wind whipped through my hair as I walked into the parking lot of MCU. I got into one of the sedans, turned on the siren and made my way to Park Avenue. No matter how this relationship turned out, my life was about to become very interesting.

**Okay, WOW!!! That was crap! It was short too, and I'm sorry. I'll try to make the next one longer, I promise. =) Title suggestions please!!!! Clicky the button.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Madelineex3—Hey, I squealed when I got four reviews on one of the chapters in the first one, so I think that you are perfectly fine, though I probably would've laughed anyway. Really? You think I started quickly, and I'm glad that I made you happy. You know? I'm gonna have a problem on my hands again! What if I do something incredibly crappy? Then what? *sigh* Well, I'm glad that the second chapter was awesome… I laugh at you because you will never find me MWAHAHAHAHA!!!! =D**

**Hrsracer00—Now, I'm pretty sure that it's supposed to be Horse Racer 00, but it could very easily be Hearse Racer 00 =P Anyways, glad that it wasn't crap. Are you saying that it wasn't very good either when you say it was enough to keep people going? I'm not taking offense, just asking. =) Enjoy the next chapter.**

**Dead-Poetic-Slumber—Yeah, the second chapter and romance have always been my weak points, so it'll be iffy. I'm glad that you liked it anyways, and you're welcome about your name. Bruce and Alex will have an interesting relationship to say the least, so I hope that it works out. ;)**

**Sabre—I see your point, and I thought that that was what you meant, but I wasn't sure. I'm sorry to hear about your hand, and I hope that it gets well soon.**

**Johanna—Again, you made me smile, and I totally see your point about being on cloud nine. He is Bruce Wayne and quite sexy if I don't say so myself. =P I don't know how the mention of the scar and Joker made her more than a straight cop with a love interest, but I'm glad about that. This story is kinda gonna be a little bit of her struggling with the Joker and other things in her mind. I haven't seen **_**Public Enemies**_**, but I want to soooo badly!!! Why was nachos a mistake?**

**Hannah—Glad they make you smile. Here's more.**

**Blpaul—Don't worry about not reviewing. I'm sure that you'll review on just about every other chapter, so missing the first one doesn't bother me that much. Alfred is not dead! Do not fear! =D No just some other white rich guy that you will find out about in this chapter. **

**Sam—If this is who I think it is, hi! If not, hi anyways. Glad that you enjoyed my last story. I was really proud of that one, and hopefully this one will be just as good. I can't give you any hints to what the end result will be, but I'm glad that somebody noticed that I was hinting something between Al and Wilson. I'm glad that there is another vote for Al and Bruce though. May help sway my decision. **

Finally I made it to Park Avenue and Langori Apartments, which were rumored to be the cheapest apartments in the area. Just the apartment building itself looked about twenty times nicer than my humble building. I parked the car on the side and walked up the front stairs into the nicest lobby with marble floors and gold mailboxes. This was intense and sad that it was the cheapest in the area because I knew that I would never, ever be able to afford it! I showed my badge to the officer by the elevator.

He nodded to me. "Just hit PH, Ma'am, and you'll go on up."

I smiled and got on the elevator and hit the instructed button. The elevator was about the size of my kitchen, I noticed, with beautiful marble floors and mirrored walls with a few delicately placed tiles, which I didn't quite understand the purpose of. Plus, this elevator moved about three times as fast as my elevator. It probably never quit running either, unlike my elevator, which always seemed to break down whenever I got groceries. Stupid thing. After 25 floors, the elevator dinged and I was looking at the penthouse suite of Langori Apartments, and it was amazing. It looked about the same as Bruce's, but less modern.

I was greeted by a familiar face as I ducked under the crime scene tape on the elevator door. Johnson stood there with a strange look on his face; one of happiness to see me, and the other of disgust from seeing the body of the rich guy. He looked good in his new uniform though. It seemed as though he kept it ironed for all eternity. "Deputy Commissioner."

I hid a smile. "Lieutenant."

We shook hands, but ended up laughing anyway.

"It's good to see you, Al," he smiled.

I nodded. "It's so good to see you again! Now you have a new uniform and everything."

He blushed. "Your dad is awesome."

Oh yeah. Dad. I looked at my watch, and figured that he would probably be home by now, arguing with Barb. I sighed. "I know. He's amazing." I meant it, but time to change the subject to the job at hand. "So where is the dead, rich, white guy?"

He pointed down towards the stairs. "Upstairs in the master bathroom. Wilson's waiting for you."

"Thanks."

He moved past me towards the elevator. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some amazingly hot girl at some unknown bar waiting for me." He winked as the elevator doors opened up.

"Don't get too drunk," I warned.

The doors slid shut and he descended away from the penthouse.

I walked up the stairs and into the master suite. I have to be honest, it was actually nicer than Bruce's place, but it didn't feel as comfortable here. There was definitely something wrong here, but I all ready knew: death had settled in here. It's a weird thing to say, but it's true; once there is a death in a place, it changes that place forever, and it was very obvious here. I looked over at the family of the rich white guy that had died. The woman, whom I was assuming was the wife, was holding her son in her arms. The son looked about 13, but his face was paler than the white walls he was standing against. Strangely, the wife wasn't crying. I couldn't explain that. If my husband had just been killed, I would be bawling, but she wasn't. I ducked into the bathroom, which is where Johnson said Wilson was waiting with our new friend.

Laying in the bathtub, which was mostly filled with water, was a middle-aged white guy. Well, at least Wilson didn't get the description wrong. Unfortunately, at first glance and a second one too, this guy had three obvious causes of death, which meant whoever killed this guy was trying to confuse us. He had strangulation marks around his neck; his pupils were dilated, suggesting he was drugged; and then the obvious, drowning. The ME was going to have lots of fun on this one.

"You're late," I heard Wilson from behind me. "You're never late, Al."

I blushed as my lips began to tingle and my mind rushed back to the bar. I didn't say anything about it, but apparently my red face and smile gave it away.

"You were on a date," he exclaimed.

I shook my head.

"Al, don't bother with that. I know; I saw Wayne leave that card for you when you were in the hospital. You were with him." Guess, being a detective didn't always just stay at MCU.

"Fine! Maybe I was with him. What's your point?"

He shrugged. His little pad of paper was still in his hand from when he took the statements of the family, and it waved around as he moved his hands. "He's a playboy, Alex."

I raised my eyebrows at him. I knew that word, but I never exactly knew the definition of it.

"Player, Al. He uses girls to get what he wants and then moves on."

"He's different than that," I protested.

"Maybe, but Al, don't get played," he warned in a very genuine tone. The left side of his mouth formed into a sympathetic smile.

I glared at him before changing the subject. "What about this guy?" I pointed to the dead body in the porcelain bathtub.

"His name is Ian McCallaster—"

"McCallaster?"

"Yeah. You know him?"

I shook my head. "No, but I think he was at one of Bruce's fundraisers."

Wilson raised his eyebrows at me. "Explains the penthouse."

"Sure does. Anyway, who found him?" I asked as I brought the conversation back to its proper course. But I did make a mental note to ask Bruce about this guy when I saw him again.

He pointed out the door of the bathroom to the family. "His son," he flipped open his notes, "Robert McCallaster, preferred to be called Bobby."

"That kid is never gonna get over this," I sighed.

Wilson nodded.

We walked out of the bathroom and back into the master suite. The wife and son had moved over to sit on the bed, but their looks hadn't changed although color had somewhat returned back to the boy's face. The wife still wasn't crying; she didn't even look sad. I elbowed Wilson. "Don, don't you think that it's strange that the wife isn't crying at all?"

He looked at me. "No. She's probably just in shock that he's gone."

I stared at her again, trying to figure it out. She met my gaze and made a pout with her face. There was definitely something she wasn't telling us. "Maybe," I sighed distractedly. "We should probably get the security footage from tonight from the lobby and elevator."

He nodded. "I'll go do that."

"Thanks," I said as he walked down the stairs. I walked over to the family. I pulled up a chair and sat across from them. "I'm so sorry for your loss," I said with almost no emotion.

She looked up at me. Her makeup was smudge on her porcelain face, but her graying blonde hair was still in perfect shape. Hairspray would do that to hair. The diamond necklace around her neck was definitely real, and probably cost about 1 million dollars with earrings to match. Her fancy suit screamed Armani. "Thank you, but I know you don't mean it." She would've been right about a year ago, but since the Joker came and Martin was killed, she was wrong.

"Ma'am—"

She shook her head and stuck out her hand. "Don't call me 'Ma'am.' It's Linda."

I shook her hand. "Alex, and I really truly am sorry, Linda. I lost someone close to me recently, so I know what it's like, but I noticed that you aren't crying."

She gestured towards the stairs. "Shall we go downstairs? Maybe somewhere more private to talk." She got up, leaving me no choice but to follow.

I followed Linda McCallaster down the stairs into what looked to be a private sitting room, almost like an old parlor, but I knew that this building was much newer than that. Still, the old Persian rug and velvet chairs (all in dark colors, I might add) with the low lighting made a great replica to an old parlor. In fact, this entire penthouse had that type of feeling. I sat across from her in the very worn out maroon couch that just sucked me up in it. I didn't know if I would be able to ever get out of it, but I wasn't complaining. It was quite comfortable. "Your home is lovely," I admired as she sat down with a cup of tea in a porcelain cup.

"Ian loved his ancestry. Decorated this entire place like the pictures he's seen of them, even with some of the actual pieces." She choked. "I'm sorry. It's hard to know that he'll never be around here again. Not that he was much anyway."

This peaked my interest, so I scooted myself a little more towards the edge of the seat and folded my hands. "What do you mean?"

"He was working quite a bit lately. Always said that they either had a new deal or that he had to put in some more overtime, but he was rarely home with Bobby and me." She sighed and took a sip of her tea. "Bobby loved him though. They used to go out and play football and catch all the time, but since Ian started working harder, they really wouldn't." She rubbed her eyes. "That's why I'm not crying; being strong for my son."

I nodded in understanding, but I sensed that that wasn't the whole truth. "What about you though? You have to be crushed beyond the point of trying to be strong."

She shook her head. "No. I knew that he didn't love me very much anymore, but we both tried to relight the flame that we used to have. You know, take weekend trips to romantic places, etcetera." She smiled at this point.

"Again, I'm sorry," I replied sincerely. I pulled out my notepad from my jacket pocket and wrote down a few things about the relationship between the family members. I wasn't really shocked at the fact that he was a little bit of a dead beat dad, but no one seemed to really mind; my guess on that was all the money he brought in. I was positive now that he had gone to a couple of Bruce's parties or whatever you would call them.

There was a knock on the door, and Wilson stuck his head in. He held up a disc in a nice little package. "Got the security footage, and Al, press is down there begging for a statement about the case." He smiled at Linda.

I sighed. I really hated dealing with press, and when I worked along side Dad, he would give the statements. Now it was my job, and I _hated _it. It was horrible, because it was kind of like being thrown to the wolves. I sighed. This was going to be a pain in the butt, but I stood up anyway. "Thank you, Linda. I'll call you as soon as we get something definitive in your husband's case." I smiled and walked out of the door with Wilson in stride with me.

We left the early 20th Century style penthouse as we stepped into the elevator. We descended quickly, which meant we hit the bottom floor sooner than I would've liked. I stood in the elevator for a little bit after it touched down, and hit the "Doors Closed" button to buy myself some time.

"You all right, Alex?" Wilson asked.

"Depends on how you're defining all right," I shot back.

He laughed. "Good point."

"I hate these things. Hate," I put out there.

He put his hand on my shoulder. "You'll do fine. You always do, but I'll bring the car around so you can make a quick escape."

I looked up at him and smiled. "You're the best." The doors opened, and the press was out there, just barely outside of the building since Johnson and his squad were keeping them out on the street. Apparently the press had stopped Johnson from heading to that bar and girl he was talking about. Guess that the slight delay wouldn't hurt too much, or at least that was probably what he thought. Cameras were rolling as reporters were filling everyone in about the horrible death that had just taken place. There were journalists too with digital cameras poised and ready to take the shot as I walked out. The sun had set, meaning that there were spotlights set up to get the perfect lighting on me. This was going to be living Hell. I walked across the lobby, controlling my quick breathing to a slow and steady rate, out onto the steps of the apartment building to be immediately bombed with questions. My breathing sped up again.

"Is it true that Ian McCallaster is really dead?"

"Do you know who did it?"

"Deputy Commissioner! Deputy Commissioner!"

I sighed and held up hands for some quiet; it honestly didn't work very well. The only thing it did for me was get about three or four more microphones added to the five all ready held to my face. _When did Gotham get so many news channels?_ I wondered as I thought of the right words to say. Finally, I saw Wilson pull up in a relatively clear shot from where I was standing. I began. "Today, something sad has happened; Ian McCallaster was killed. The details of this cannot be released at this time as it is an ongoing investigation. We are doing everything that we can at this time to catch whoever killed Mr. McCallaster. We have just gotten this case so be patient with us, because we will get whoever did this. No further comment at this time."

Of course, did the press ever really leave it at that? No. They all shoved the microphones and recorders further into my face and began firing more questions at me.

"Is it true that you are dating Bruce Wayne?"

"Did you really kiss him at O'Malley's Pub and Grill?"

It caught my attention, but I tuned them out into one large rumbling noise as I walked, quite swiftly, towards the car. They got more persistent and began to try to block my path. This was got me about me about the press. They never just let you leave, and I would tend to let my anger flare a little bit. Tonight thought they were particularly persistent, and the cameramen were almost completely successful in blocking my path without me having any chance of getting by. The rumble of the reporters got louder, and I was beginning to think that I was going to need to yell at them to leave me alone. Of course, that would be the stupidest thing I could do since there were cameras and recorders everywhere.

Apparently, Johnson had seen my failing struggle as was I surrounded by the sea of press because soon enough, he was yelling at the press people to back off and leave. "You have your statement. Now go away! Isn't it obvious she isn't going to say anything else?" He pushed them away so that I would have just enough room to sneak by and make it to the car.

I did just that and practically jogged my way down the sidewalk to the car, my protection from the swarm. I pulled open the door and climbed inside, slamming the door behind me. I was halfway out of breath as I sat there for a moment before Wilson actually started moving. I saw Johnson and his squad standing in front of the press keeping them from me. He turned around and smiled. I waved to him. "You would think I was some sort of celebrity," I told Wilson.

He looked at me incredulously. "You kinda are," he pointed out. "Plus, one of the richest people in Gotham just died. They wanna know what happened." He started the car and pulled out onto the street in front of a taxi, who honked quite loudly at us for cutting him off. "Screw you!" he shouted at the taxi.

I turned to him. "They were asking about Bruce."

He pointed his finger at me as concentrated on the road. "Hence the semi-celebrity status." He paused as we turned onto our street. Now we had about five more minutes of drive time on a traffic free day; fifteen if we were lucky tonight. "Relax, Al. People will get over it eventually."

I sighed and nodded. He might be right, or he could very well be wrong. If Bruce and I turned into anything serious, people may not get over it. This was definitely going to be an interesting time in my life.

Wilson rested his arm on the windowsill as we waited in the long line of cars. He pondered to himself for a while before pondering out loud. "So how do you think he died?"

Light bulb moment: I need to call the ME to see when the autopsy report would be ready. "Hold that thought, Don," I said as I lifted my butt up to get the phone. I dialed the Morgue and waited.

"Gotham City and County Morgue, you stab 'em, we slab 'em."

I couldn't hold back the burst of laughter that erupted from my mouth at the classic joke. "Hey, Sid," I greeted through the giggles. "You haven't used that one in a while."

"Ah, Deputy Commissioner Gordon," he slurred, but he was in no way drunk. It was just how he talked. "It is a good one, huh?"

"Call me Alex, or Chief if you want to be formal," I insisted. I got a look and a smirk from Wilson as I said this.

"Well then Alex, what can I do for you, or _who_ may I do for you?" He was trying to be clever, but it certainly wasn't working. He just sounded perverted.

"You should get a different thing that, Sid, but you're getting there." We both chuckled. "Anyways, what can you give me on Ian McCallaster?"

"I got the call, but not the body. Patience, my dear, I will call you when the body is ready for you." With that he hung up, and I sat in silence for the rest of the ride up to MCU, pondering the death of Ian McCallaster.

**Well, that's it for chapter 3. Hope you all love it. Don't have much to say on the matter other than clicky the button. Oh, school starts for me on Thursday so the chapters may not come in as regularly as desired, and I may start working on my own novel that could be published. Hope that that will work out and wish me luck for school. Again, clicky the button to give the reviews of which I love.**


	4. Hiatus Message

**Hi everyone. I know that you all want to read more of this story, and I promise that at some point I will continue writing them. However, at this point in time, I'm writing my own work of fiction. Wanna know something cool about that? It's online too. You can find the link to the book on my profile. I would love it if you all took the time to read and review. You guys are really my motivation. Hope that you all enjoy it =) Love you all**


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